


Home for the Holidays

by SodaWizard



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Arthur doesn't know how to drink coffee, Busking, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Restaurants, USUK - Freeform, USUK Secret Santa 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9053485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SodaWizard/pseuds/SodaWizard
Summary: Alfred waits tables and sings on the sidewalks of New York City in his struggle to survive in the heart of such an active town. When he meets Arthur, a well-off lawyer with a bad taste in coffee and a love for restaurant pies, he doesn’t expect to have his most challenging Christmas wish granted, and the potential of something more. 2016 USUK Secret Santa Exchange gift for usukdorkfanfics!





	

_"I don't want a lot for Christmas..."_

Arthur perked his head up and watched the man seated on the subway station’s floor with interest.

_"There's just one thing I need..."_

He could only imagine how unfavorable it would be to be outside for so long in such horrid weather. The boy's fingerless gloves exposed pink (more than likely freezing) fingertips that remained insistent on strumming the strings to his guitar and completing the song.

_"I don't care about the presents.."_

Arthur saw the man on his way to work almost daily, playing songs on his guitar and busking for the spare change in other New Yorker’s pockets. He shuffled towards the boy and fished a ten dollars out of his wallet. He tossed the bill into the boy’s guitar case and flashed a familiar smile towards the male, greeted with one in return.

 _"_ Thank you Arthur! _Underneath the Christmas tree.."_

He was wearing a hat over his blonde hair that Arthur had purchased for him--really, what kind of person was he to deny the Christmas spirit and make the busker suffer another day with freezing ears?--to help with the cold, and he was undeniably thankful that he could do something to assist the singing boy. Arthur heard a blizzard was approaching, and from the looks of it, the musician couldn’t afford much on his own to protect himself from the winter weather.

_"I just want you for my own..!"_

The mass of people Arthur was standing with began to move once the subway train came into view. As the subway began to let people off, Arthur joined the crowd attempting to get on.

_"More than you could ever know..!"_

"Have a nice afternoon, Alfred!" Arthur called, giving a small wave to the young singer and boarded the subway. He held his briefcase tight to his person as Alfred’s voice began to fade in competition with the subway’s mechanics.

_"Make my wish come true..! Baby, all I want for Christmas, is you!"_

Alfred was born and raised in Virginia, and a newbie to the city life of New York. From what Arthur had gathered, he struggled to make end's meet with his double-shift jobs and busking on the side. He waited tables at a rather nice restaurant, which was where Arthur had first ran into the excitable American. Alfred's happy attitude and friendly joking the first night he had served Arthur earned him a rather generous tip, and a direct request from Arthur to be seated at one of Alfred's tables the next time he came in. Imagine his surprise when he was on his way to work and saw the same waiter on the street, playing his guitar to the tune of some new pop song for the change in people's pockets.

 

* * *

 

The next time Arthur ran into Alfred was at the boy's work. As usual, Arthur requested to be seated in Alfred's waiting zone, and peeled off his snowy scarf and hat and allowed himself to relax against the leather booth. He denied the menu and just requested coffee, waiting for Alfred's sweet voice and peppy attitude to finally hit his table.

"Hiya! What can I get 'ya for tod- Arthur! Where’d you come from? I didn’t see you come in! What if ‘ya gave me a heart attack? What if I fainted? You'd be stuck waiting my tables for me while I'm on my way to the ER," Alfred joked, faking fear and shock as pressed a hand to his heart. "Just coffee for 'ya? No fish 'n chips like last time?" he questioned, noticing the lack of menu on his table. Unlike most restaurant workers, Alfred’s excited and happy attitude wasn’t a facade to get more money. He genuinely enjoyed seeing Arthur come in.

"I'm just here to keep you on your toes, Alfred. But, I'm afraid you'd get some rather sour tips if I was doing your job. You know the works of this place. You'll probably be forced to stay on the floor--heart attack or not--until your shift ends," Arthur teased. "Yeah! Just coffee. Can’t say no to endless refills for just a dollar fifty.” Arthur raising his coffee cup, grimacing at how quickly and eagerly he answered. “No fish and chips, but I could go for a slice of whatever pie you have left over."

"Oh boy, do I know it," Alfred sighed, propping one of his arms against the table as he continued to converse with Arthur. "They'll still be callin' me in for late and fill-in shifts until the day I die. The price I've got'ta pay for bein' part time, y'know? No one wants to drive out--or walk out, for that matter--with snows this bad, so everyone calls in sick and they throw in the newbie. But hey, I can't deny the extra hours! I got'ta save up for a vacation back home to Virginia somehow!” Alfred had expressed his attempted to visit his family back home dozens of times in their conversations. He couldn’t help but feel bad for Alfred, considering this year would be his first Christmas away from his parents and brother.

“I think we still have some Boston cream pie left over! Sadly no lemon cream, like you usually get. I don't mean to brag, but the chocolate pies here are bomb. The Boston cream reminds me of the kind my 'ma used to make back home on holidays, and y'know, almost nothin' can compare to homemade pies!" the American drawled in his babbling excitement, always thrilled to get a chance to speak with Arthur. “It’s a little bit on the sweet side, though. But you’re mighty sweet ‘ya’self, so I think you can take it.”

Arthur nodded in sympathy, bringing his cup of coffee to his lips. “Is that flirting I sense, Alfred? Or just an attempt to get me to buy the rest of the restaurant’s Boston cream?”

“Maaaybe a bit of both. Seriously, we need to go out for coffee sometime! Speaking of which, do you want some creamers for your coffee? French vanilla, half and half, Irish cream..? Or I can just bring in the variety,” Alfred suggested, flashing another smile.

“I’ll just take it black, thank you. ...How come you always offer me coffee, but yet I can never get your phone number?” Arthur questioned, leaning closer.

They were interrupted with a small bell being rung, signalling that someone’s order had been filled and was ready to be taken to their table. Alfred visibly deflated and sighed, flashing a small look of exhaustion towards Arthur. “That’s why, I’m afraid. I’ll be back in a minute, and with some pie! On the house! Sorry.”

Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle as Alfred reluctantly went back to work.

They had been bouncing between flirting and friendly banter ever since it was disclosed to Arthur that Alfred was bisexual and proud, and Arthur revealed his experience as a gay lawyer in the heart of New York City. It was obvious that there was a mutual attraction between them, but neither of party had gathered up the courage to properly ask the other out.

Alfred served a couple their respective salads and entreés and returned back to Arthur’s table with a pot of hot coffee and a plate of Boston creme pie. He refilled Arthur’s cup and grimaced at the thought of downing the coffee without any added sugar. Arthur was certainly weird, but a cute kind of weird.

“That back table is throwin’ a fit. I’m ‘too slow’, but they’re the ones that took ten minutes to order! It also ain’t my fault that I’m easily distracted with the cute blonde sitting over here,” Alfred stated, quirking an eyebrow in Arthur’s direction.

“A cute blonde? Where? I didn’t see one come in,” Arthur teased, even going the lengths of looking behind him for the peson in question.

Alfred laughed. “I don’t know, I think I see one loud ‘n clear. He’s also got really gorgeous eyes and doesn’t know how to sweeten his coffee.”

Arthur squawked in protest at that, taking a glance down at his plain cup of caffeine. He may not know the proper amount of creamer and sugar packages to make the proper cup of coffee, but he took pride in that fact no matter the amount of times Alfred tried to show him!

The waiter had to pull himself away from their bantering once more when he saw a customer close their menu, sparing an apologetic glance towards Arthur before he left again.

Arthur enjoyed the pie and shared the occasional joke with Alfred whenever he walked by his table. He smiled in thanks once Alfred dropped his check off and quickly started to calculate the tip. Considering he had only purchased the cup of coffee, the tip he was supposed to leave would be relatively small.

Feeling the hype of the Christmas spirit, Arthur opted for a different idea.

Alfred walked by the table and Arthur quickly flipped the receipt over, scribbling out a few digits with his ink pen. Ah, probably doing math. Arthur always seemed to give him the largest recommended tip no matter what he bought, even sometimes going straight down to the cent.

Arthur finished scribbling and folded the receipt in half, hiding his writing from Alfred’s prying eyes. Alfred gave another round to his tables before he moved to talk to Arthur. The lawyer was already standing up and collecting his jacket to by the time Alfred sauntered in front of him.

“Thanks for comin’ in, Arthur! It’s always nice to talk to ‘ya. I’m sure I’ll see you again, yeah?”

“Of course,” Arthur hummed, biting back a rather happy grin. After collecting his courage, Arthur leaned forward to cup Alfred’s cheek with his hand, and took a few short moments before he pressed a gentle and quick kiss to the man’s cheekbone. “Thank you for the pie. Happy holidays,” Arthur squeaked, cheeks pink as he quickly pulled away and scurried towards the restaurant’s doors. He left Alfred to stand alone in astonishment, and the waiter took a solid two minutes to recover from his quick beating heart and burning cheeks before he picked up Arthur’s receipt to ring his tip in.

At the sight of it, though, Alfred nearly fainted.

[Amount: 1.50

Tip: 450.00

Total: 451.50]

Was Arthur out of his fucking mind? Alfred’s eyes scanned over the total five separate times, almost afraid that he’d blink and the tip would suddenly change to a simple two dollars.

Alfred’s shaking hands were preventing him from reading the cursive below the total amount, the world suddenly quiet as he set the receipt down to read Arthur’s writing.

_‘I hope this is enough to buy yourself a plane home for the holidays. You deserve to spend it with your family.’_

Alfred pressed a hand to his mouth and attempted to hold back tears, but to no avail. He was making a scene, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

There was a small drawn arrow that pointed towards the corner of the receipt, so Alfred flipped it over.

The numbers he had seen Arthur scribbling down earlier were in fact not math, but a phone number and another note.

_‘P.S._

_Call me, and maybe you can show me how to properly drink coffee._

_(XXX) XXX-XXXX_

_-Arthur’_

Alfred let out a strangled wheeze and pressed the receipt close to his chest, wiping hot tears from under his eyes as he tried to recover from shock (and keep himself from falling over). Another waiter made their way over to Alfred’s side once they caught sight of the teary male.

“Hey, Al? What’s going on? Did that customer say something to you? Is there something wrong with the payment?”

“No, no! Nothing bad, I just...” He took a shaky breath and briefly showed the receipt’s tip to the other waiter, a nervous but thrilled laugh leaving his lips as he got the chance to share his excitement with someone. “And I got his number, too.”

Alfred wiped tears from under his eyes one last time.

“Do you, uhm... Think you can cover for me, for like, ten minutes? I need to make a phone call.”


End file.
